


To Clean A Million Minds.

by PeeJayXela



Category: Horace - Fandom, Horace2019
Genre: But A Nice Robot Overlord, First fic for this famdom on ao3 im so blessed, Old men being sad, Other, Rebuilding Civilisation, Robot Overlord, Robots, Robots getting old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 00:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20416967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeeJayXela/pseuds/PeeJayXela
Summary: “Cleaning things is a lot more difficult than I thought.I thought cleaning was simply to clear up any dust and rubbish....But it turns out that dust and rubbish can be all over people, and cleaning out the rubbish in people’s head can be much more difficult...”An Exploration of the Family after the battle with the man in black, mostly on the loss of Preston and Heather.





	1. Chapter 1

Cleaning things is a lot more difficult than I thought. I thought cleaning was simply to clear up any dust and rubbish. But it turns out that dust and rubbish can be all over people, and cleaning out the rubbish in people’s head can be much more difficult. 

Heather visited me again today. She told me not to worry about Mr. Siltons glaring, or Mr preston appearing in my room at night. 

I told her that she was also an apparition, but she smiled, and left through the wall. 

—

In the morning, just after the sun went though the crack in the curtains, the old lady woke me, patting me on the head and helping me into my coat. Looking in the mirror is a confusing affair, now. With my hat, and cane, and coat, I wear exactly what the Old man used to wear. I stand next to the Old lady more often than not. 

It has me wondering if I am now the Old man, which feels odd to say, because I still feel young on the inside. 

Years seem to go so slowly while I’m awake. So many years passed when i slept for the first time, but now they move slower, than, as Alice says, ‘a snails pace.’

I agree with her. 

Today, I have many things to do, and After the old lady helped me into the hall, I found myself achey after only the short walk. 

Why was I in so much pain? All the time. As the old lady had said, I wasn’t supposed to feel pain. 

My thoughts were broken by a hand on my shoulder- Mr Silton. He looked as tired as I felt, with big dark rings under his eyes. At first, I thought he was experimenting with Mrs Silton’s makeup, but after he smiled and the dark rings crinkled with him, I knew it was not the case. 

Yes, Today’s activities. Today I had to speak to the Robots who had crowned me ruler and protector of the universe. I had to talk to them about rebuilding and letting humans into their cities to help. Lots of them still felt threatened by Humans, which I supposed makes sense, but The Old Lady told me that peace was always the option. 

And so, Sim powered up the internet, and the screen was full of the advisors, all looking very stern and scary. I almost cowered away, until I remembered that I was supposed to be in charge. 

I told them, with as much authority as my processors could handle, that they should consider letting humans in to their cities, and also to stop killing robots OR people. 

What frightened me the most, was that their expressions didnt change as they spoke to one another, murmurs that i couldn’t understand or hear. 

They said nothing, until my Predecessor of the competition took to the front of the screen. 

“We have stopped our process of destroying unuseful models, but letting humans into the city might be difficult. I, for one, am fine with it, but lots of the population might be hostile.” The old arcade machine said, his pixilated expression going sombre. 

I thought about this for a long time, until an Idea sprang to mind, thinking of all the old movies that Heather and I used to watch. 

I told them about Fort, whom they remembered, and I explained that his model could be used as bodyguards. 

They all seemed to nod slightly at this, before they cut the connection at their side. 

I have to sit down now, I told them.  
My legs hurt too much to be standing. 

—

Alice bought me a ‘hot water bottle’, although I was reserved at first about the ‘water’ element of it, and how it might hurt me. But, after she showed me how plugged tight the rubbery bottle was, I accepted. 

Alice and I spoke about her religion, and the funny green tobacco. Apparently it makes you feel ‘giggly’ and ‘relaxed’, which i considered to be a good thing to have in a religion. 

Mr Preston used to smoke that funny green tobacco... 

|| ζοτε Μεξξαβε: ξειζμτε ||

I’m not sure what happened then, but i woke up on the floor, and Alice told me I was shaking on the ground for a long time, before Mr Silton put a pillow under my head, and i stopped banging it on the floor. 

He looked at me funny, did Mr Silton, and for a moment I really did feel like he was reading my mind like a movie. 

Then he looked away, and I wasn’t sure anymore. 

Mr Deck helped me up, and I hung onto him. He was a lot skinnier than I imagined, what with his large jacket. But leaning on him, I found that he was much more lean than he let on. I wonder why he didnt just get a suit that fit him better... 

He called me a “yellow fa**ot” for hanging onto him for too long, and for some reason, It hurt my chest. The Old Lady proceeded to yell at him for his language, while Mr Silton once again helped me, leading me back to the living room, and sitting me down. 

A lot of time passed with both of us saying a whole lot of nothing, until Mr Silton finally spoke up. 

“Me too.” Was all he said, which left me scratching my head for why he said that. Him too what? It was confusing, but made me very very sad. Mr Silton looked very very sad, too. 

“All he wanted to do was play drums and learn about the world.” Mr Silton continued, and it all made sense, in a very sad way. 

Mr Preston... 

Another long silence passed, and I realised what Mr Silton meant when he said ‘me too.’

I nodded, although I’m still not sure why, but It made Mr Siltom smile, So I’m glad I did. 

—

Mr Preston used to smoke that funny green tobacco...


	2. Humans in the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, I spoke to the Advisors.

Mr. Preston visited my dreams again tonight... I was flying, as usual, but this time, he was floating there, ahead of me. His bullet wound was there, still dripping, even as he stared at me...

It scared me terribly that I woke up. 

Heather was there to comfort me. She told me that Preston wasnt done with life yet... thats why he was still here. 

I asked her why she was still here, too, but she simply smiled in that mysterious way of hers. 

When she left, Mr Preston was back... sitting in the corner of my room. Slumped, the blood still in his forehead. 

Sleeping didnt seem to be the best option right now, so I got up, walking slowly down the stairs. Video games would pass the time, I hoped. 

But, as it turns out, I didnt get to play video games at all.   
Mr Silton was awake- this must be why he had dark circles, I mused. 

He seemed to be deep in writing- hunched over a journal and scribbling away.   
Would he want to see me? He seemed reluctant to look at me, usually. 

But that choice was taken out of my hands, for Mr. Silton looked up at me. He looked unhappy, but also understanding, which confused me, because Mr Silton usually didn’t understand a lot of things. 

“Robot..” he had said to me, gesturing that i walk over. So I did. 

His journal was filled with a detailed log of what happened on the moon, with what seemed to be little edits when he remembered more things. Of course, I could see the mistakes he had made, but now did not seem like a good time to mention it. 

“Hell, nobody’s going to buy it, but he wouldve wanted to put this somewhere. He’d have made it into a blog or a video...” he laughed, then, which was also confusing, because what Mr Silton had said made me very sad.

But he was right. Preston would have wanted to shout his findings to the whole world. 

I asked Mr Silton if this was the only reason he had been staying up. I just wanted to know if I was alone in the Visits from Preston. 

Apparently not. 

Mr Silton told me about seeing Mr Preston in his dreams. I understood completely, telling him about my visions of both Preston and Heather. 

Unfortunately, this just made Mr Silton very worried, standing up and pulling out his big bricked ‘cellular phone.’

Before I even knew it, The Old Lady, Sim, and the Blind Man was there, all looking very worried. 

Mr Silton told me to tell them what I told him. 

So I did. 

This just made them more worried, so I regret following Mr. Silton’s order.

What came next was worse. I had to lay down, and they opened a panel in my head. 

I don’t remember much from then, but The Old Lady told me I was ‘screaming.’ And ‘leaking.’

Im not sure what they meant, but The Old lady put a radio in my room, and I was able to sleep for the rest of the night with Preston only on the horizon, not in front of me. 

——

I awoke at lunch time- which I knew because I woke up to the sound if Alice shouting ‘lunch time!’ 

I had no reason to join them, as i do mot eat, but it is always nice to sit with everyone at the table, so I ended up going down anyway. 

I sat alongside the New Heather, who seemed very happy to tell me about her new collection of bird feathers instead of eating. The New Heather is much more active than My Heather- but thats fine. 

Mrs Silton told the New Heather to stop bothering me and eat, but I told her it was fine. She smiled, nodding, and soon the New Heather was off again with her words. It made me smile. I wondered about telling her about the old heather, but again, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

Everyone seemed very happy to eat, and for a moment I remembered the cake i ate in the dream I had at Alice’s house. I wondered if I had actually eaten it, or if that was all part of the dream. 

Whatever happened, eating now didn’t seem like an option, so everyone finished their lunch without me, and continued on with their day. 

—

I had another call from The robots who called me their leader, all looking very stern.

I asked them what was wrong, and they told me they couldn’t find Fort, although they had found others of his model. They asked me if he was here, as they wanted to make him chief of defence for the new human arrivals. 

Oh. 

They didn’t know- of course they didn’t know- my face must have crumpled, because everyone seemed to panic, even the advisors. 

I took a deep breath as I had seen Mrs Silton do when she got emotional. 

And explained that Fort had been... well, he had died in the battle with the man in black. That he died protecting us, and all of them, also. 

This, awfully, seemed to satiate their questions, and the screen once again turned blank. 

Their departure left me free for face-crumbling. So I did, letting big oily tears run down my face. 

Everyone panicked again, the Old Lady coming to wrap a blanket around me and wipe my tears. 

She told me it was okay, and for some reason, I believed her... Maybe it was the reassuring look on her face, or that she was giving me a blanket, but in that moment, she could have said anything in the world to me, and I would be inclined to agree. 

Once again, I was walked into the living room, and The Old Lady sat next to me, an arm around my shoulder. This, for some reason, made me leak oil even more. 

But it was comforting. Leaning into The Old Lady. She was much more happy to accommodate my leaning than Mr Deck was. 

I asked her what Mr Deck had meant when he called me a ‘fa**ot’, because the definition in my dictionary didnt make sense. 

The Old Lady sighed, and remarked that she didn’t know Mr Deck to be so closed minded. Then, she explained that the word was used as a derogatory term to describe gay people. 

Happy people? I asked her, quickly searching under Gay in my dictionary. 

She shook her head, and it was then I found the other meaning. 

Oh-   
I hadnt seen that before. All the couples I had seen in my life were.. as the dictionary put it, ‘heterosexual’. 

The Old Lady seemed to understand my confusion, and inform me that some people didnt like the fact that... ‘homosexual’ people loved eachother. She then said it was wrong. 

I wasn’t sure what to think, but saying bad things about someone, just because they love someone like themselves did indeed seem wrong. 

I then asked why Mr Deck didn’t like Gay people, then.

The Old Lady sighed again, and I thought that maybe it was a good time to stop asking questions. But she did answer, telling me that some people are just brought up like that, and that loving someone like yourself wasn’t widely accepted. 

Maybe, as protector and ruler of the universe, I could change it. 

Would I be ‘gay’ if I loved someone of the same model?  
The question momentarily had me imagining kissing my own face, and I very quickly shook the thought away. 

I told the Old Lady I understood, and then we didn’t talk. The silence was nice, peaceful- it reminded me of sleeping, but without the closing eyes and powering down part. 

— 

People were in the Robots cities, now. The limited number of Fort’s model were taking in the human refugees. I was informed that the humans were happy to be in their city again, and the Advisors put them to work on farms, because they didnt have any human food to give them. 

I told them not to work the humans too hard, because they were made of soft meat, and dont have infinite lives.   
This made them annoyed, but they agreed. 

I’m glad the Humans are in the City. I’m glad they’re safe.


	3. Robotic Insomnia

They were not safe. 

I was awoken by Heather, waving her hands in front of me in my dream. 

When I awoke, it was her mother, The Old Lady, who was actually doing the waving. 

She pulled me up far too fast, down to the big screen. 

The Advisors, looking... very normal. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, but the looks on everyones faces definitely told me otherwise. 

The human refugees were missing. Running away didnt seem like an option- they had traveled so far to get back into their city. 

Mr Silton suggested Kidnapping, which, judging by The Old Lady coming to my side, I did not react well to. 

I asked them what to do, to which I was told that they had called me for the same question. 

Oh. 

Yes- yes, I was the ruler. I forgot... 

Well, I started, unhappy images of scared humans prodding to the forefront of my thoughts. 

Send a search party. 

Already done.. oh... 

Make... a reward? First to find or turn in the humans to be given.... one of my many arcade machines? I had many in the palace, I didn’t mind parting with them. I didn’t use them, anyway. 

I didn’t like the idea of giving a reward to the people who had taken the humans, but the Advisors didnt seem to care, simply turning off their end again.

I felt so incredibly alone. I was the only robot over here, and I had to govern a city I wasnt even in. 

Exhausted as I was, I felt even morso- which, until I actually felt it, didnt seem possible. 

I sat down right where I was, once again leaking those oily tears. My joints were in pain and my processors were a mess. So much to think about... so much, so much... 

I saw Heather sitting ahead of me, palms outstretched, and smiling. 

I wanted to reach out for her so badly, but moving proved to be an impossibility. Try as I might, I couldn’t move an inch. It was excruciating. 

She smiled, holding her hands out further- reaching for me, too- 

There was red liquid on her midsection- I knew immediately that it was from the bullet wound in her back. 

I told her to go to a hospital- that she was bleeding all over the carpet, and that I couldn’t move to help her. 

I felt awful. Heather was bleeding right in front of me, and there wasn’t a thing I could do. 

Logically, my memories told me that Heather was dead- but she was here, she was in pain, she was reaching out for me and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it, to save her- i didn’t save her, I didn’t save her, I didn’t- 

Hey...

A warm voice- Mrs Silton.   
She took the place of Heather opposite me, kneeling down and taking my hands. 

She looked gentle, telling me that things were going to be okay. 

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that things would all work out, and the world would be simple again. I could play video games, and not worry about humans going missing... 

That didn’t seem to be the case. 

Mrs Silton told me to listen to her tummy. I found this request very odd, because unborn babies cant speak, so there shouldnt be anything of note about the baby inside her. 

I was proven wrong. 

The sound of her tummy was... endearingly organic. Swishes like waves, and gurgles like tummies, as well as the steady sound of a heartbeat. I wasn’t sure who’s I was listening to....

It calmed me. And I remembered that Heather told me that people die to make room for more babies. 

It was all okay... things would be okay... 

||

I took a nap after the video call. After being woken up early, I felt as if I had an acceptable excuse to sleep some more. 

I was thankful that Heather didn’t visit me- she seemed to only want to visit at night. 

Preston was there, though. Just standing, this time. The blood from his head parted at his nose, running down like two red tears.

Why was he crying? I asked him, only for a blink in return. 

He took out one of his cigarettes, lighting it. The smoke he inhaled came of the hole in his head. 

I asked him if he was okay. If he could talk. 

No response. 

I wondered if I was crazy- to which he shook his head. 

“I told you.” He said to me, for the first time since my visions of the dead started appearing. “There is an afterlife.” 

And then I woke up.

No visions of anyone in my room, thankfully, but I still felt incredibly uneasy at what had happened. 

Apparently, I was not the only one. 

Before I had even left my room, Mr Silton waylaid me, stopping me in my tracks and looking me over.

He asked me if i had seen him. 

Seen who? Who’s he? 

Preston- he told me, seeming very agitated. It frightened me how aggressive he was being- it wasn’t the Mr Silton I knew at all... 

Yes, Yes I had seen Preston. 

I told him about the vision I had. Again, I regretted it, for it made Mr Silton very stressed, more so than before. It wasn’t my intention to make him upset, but I had no way of consoling him without knowing why he was so upset. 

___

As it turns out- Mr Silton was scared. Worried that his OWN visions were very similar, and it MUST be Preston talking with us. 

I told him that he sounded a lot like Preston himself with the theories. 

The joke was not appreciated, so I shut up. 

We compiled all we knew. Each of us had received the ‘the afterlife is real’ message, but nothing else. 

I wondered what Mr Preston could want to speak to us about. The old me would have hoped it would be an adventure- but now, after everything that had happened, all I wanted it to be was an order to relax and rest...

For some reason, I doubted I would have any such luck. 

Preston was far too dramatic for that. 

||

I left Mr Silton to fuss after giving him all the information of my visions, heading to the living room. 

The Old Lady, Alice, and Mrs Silton were all talking. I’m not sure what about, because they all stopped as I walked into the room. 

It made me heat up, embarrassed they were talking about me. 

However, The Old Lady told me to sit down. So I did. 

The talking resumed, but it lacked the giggles and fervour I had heard just before I entered the room. 

Eventually, the topic came back to the Missing Humans at the city. We all wanted to find them, of course. We needed to find them. And then keep them safe. I hated to be stern, but I really didn’t want any robots being mean to the humans. 

We had all been mean to eachother for far too long.


	4. Mr Logan?

They’re okay. My sleep was dreamless and vision-less. No Heather, No Preston- just The Old Lady waking me in the morning with a Hot Water Bottle and my coat. 

She was pleased- pleased enough to tell me, as we were walking, that today was a day for celebration, and I would find out why. 

And find out why I did. 

The screen was met with the faces of the missing humans. 

Some. 

It seems that a small faction of robots did indeed take the humans, but after lots of negotiations and proof that humans werent the monsters they thought they were, the faction handed them over and agreed to spend time on the new farms to get proof of this. 

I smiled so much that I was sure the smile touched my eyes. Safe, and others were listening. Stress washed away like seashells, bringing with them the swell of relief. 

They would be put back to the farm, and have volunteers to guard them from other small factions. 

Things slot into place... 

But, the call was cut short- some important human people there to talk to The Old Lady about their own rebuilding. 

It all felt... very good. 

I stood with the Old Lady while she spoke, admiring how easily she dealt with it all. How calm, collected, and how much better suited she would be to ‘protector of the universe ‘ than me. 

I must have been in a far away place, because when I finally stopped staring, the call was over. 

Excuse me, I said to her. She turned to look at me- everyone turned to look at me. Did I really say it so loud? 

I think you handled that better than I could have, I said to her. This made her very happy, So Im glad I said it. She deserved to be happy. 

Everyone still seemed to be staring, as if waiting for me to say more- but I had nothing else to say. So I left to play video games in the living room. 

At least, that was the plan. 

What actually happened is that I started to walk to the living room, when Mr Silton pulled me to his room, where he and Mr Logan had been compiling everything Preston had said, and what happened at the moon base. 

I asked them what it was for... 

They both didn’t answer, looking admist their collective knowledge. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

LOGAN POV. 

3 years- or more. Probably more. I stopped counting after the first year or so... just felt too much. 

When that... robot came back- Barry was angry on my behalf. Course he was pissed off, too, but... not like me. Not what we had. 

I forgave him. Wasn’t his fault. If I blamed him, I could blame That Old Man, for making him. Or Barry, for taking the job for him. 

Nobody’s fault... ‘cept that Man In Black... his fault all the way. 

I couldn’t- still can’t talk about it- but I guess I have to. He’s talking to us. Well... to the Robot. And... Maybe Barry? I dont know- I feel like he’s just spewing the same shit back to the robot, and the robot buys it... 

Doesn’t matter. Preston’s talking. 

Always knew he would. Always said, if there was an afterlife, he’d be fucking sure to tell us about it... 

I’ve tried it all. Seances, energies, crystals- anything and everything. Nothing. Then, years later, the prick talks to the robot. The robot, of all people. Or things. 

So I guess I gotta talk to it... 

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

HORACE POV

Mr Logan began telling me about Preston. Stories about him, about his antics, and jokes. 

I didn’t really see the point, until he pulled out his wallet. 

I told him I didn’t need any money, that I get a lot of cash from my junk. It perked Mr Silton’s ears up, but Mr Logan just shook his head, taking out an old, crumpled up picture. 

Oh-  
Oh?   
But The Old Lady said-   
And Mr Deck said... 

...

On the picture, was Mr Preston and Mr Logan, holding hands. 

There wasn’t much more to it, but somehow, I could tell that it was inherently romantic in nature. 

And I nodded, for somehow, I understood. 

He asked me, in that low tone of his, that whatever Preston wanted to say, he wanted to hear it. 

I understood that, too. 

I was beginning to understand a lot of things, so far after first being made... 

I promised him, I really did, that I’d make every effort to see Preston in my dreams, despite how much he scared me.


	5. Systematic Seance

Without an explanation, Mr Silton and Mr Logan got me into the van. They didn’t hurt me- they were actually very nice, helping me step up to the seat- but no explanation. 

They took me to a funny place with lots of beads and rocks on the walls, funny smelling candles and some odd looking boardgame in the middle of the table.

Mr Silton seemed very interested in the boardgame, hurrying Mr Logan and I to sit down around it. There was a spare chair. Were we missing someone? Was Preston going to sir there? 

No- no. A middle aged Lady came to sit down, holding one of my hands, and one of Mr Silton’s. 

Her voice was soft, whispery so that i had to lean in. Mr Logan was encouraged to join hands also, and repeat some words. 

They didn’t make much sense to me, and the lady, after breaking the circle, frowned at me. She asked if having me here was useful, and that she would give a refund for one if I wanted to leave. One look at Mr Silton told me he wanter me to say, so i did. 

She listened to mine and Mr. siltons visions, and Mr Logan’s relationship with Preston, before telling us to put a finger on a triangle of wood with a round hole. 

So I did. It seemed to be part of the boardgame.

Mr Logan didn’t seem as... steady as usual. He asked a particular question- he asked if Preston was here. 

Apparently, I found out later, the little peg was supposed to move- 

It didn’t. 

The lady encouraged Mr Silton to ask- so he did. 

The Lady herself then asked, but the peg never seemed to move. 

I felt a little left out, and the Lady kept giving me ‘dirty glares’ as Mr Silton called them. 

She suggested that it wasnt working because ‘a robot’ was present. 

This made me very sad, and reminded me of when the Man In Black spoke about me like an object. 

Thankfully, this made Mr Silton quite angry, insisting then that I ask the question. 

Part of me feels that he said this just to spite the lady. 

I was flattered. 

And so, I asked the question. 

It was very very bad. Visions of Preston appeared all over the room, the hole in his head leaking blood all over the floor. 

I screamed, and they all seemed to panic, even the Lady. I started to explained what I saw-  
But before I could fully explain, the peg started to move. 

It slid over to the intricately inscribed ‘Yes’ 

Mr Silton yelped, the lady gasped, and Mr Logan... 

Mr Logan was quiet. Very quiet, very very quiet. 

I was pressed to ask more questions, and after they gave me some to ask, I repeated them. 

I asked him if he was okay  
Yes  
If he was happy  
Yes  
Is there heaven or hell?  
No  
Are you lonely  
Yes... 

Can you listen to us?   
Yes. 

So Mr Logan started speaking, his low voice reverberating around the dimly lit room. 

“I miss you. It all feels so boring without someone to point out the pointless mysteries of the world. We’re telling everyone about what happened on the moon, and soon we’re going to put it on the Internet”

While this wasn’t much, it was far more than Mr Logan ever normally spoke, and even Mr Silton seemed slightly shocked. 

Mr Logan got up there and then, leaving the room and the building. 

Mr Silton said a more brief version of what Mr Logan had said, before following him. 

The Lady insisted I said goodbye, so I did, and the visions stopped. 

I left also. 

The ride back home was... quiet. Silent, almost, save for Mr Silton and Mr Logan breathing. 

Everyone else was incredibly worried. The Old Lady asked me why I didnt tell anyone where I had gone, and Mrs Silton was giving a right old telling off to Mr Silton. 

Mr Logan just went to his room.

I didn’t see him again that night, and my dreams were full of a smiling- if very dead and bloody- Preston.


	6. Biscuits, not benevolence

That morning, we received word from the formerly missing humans. The robot friends of mine had converted them into what mr silton called ‘some bloody cult’. I was sure i had mistaken his N for an L there, but what he said did indeed checked out. 

This, however, made Alice very angry, telling Mr Silton to ‘respect their religion’.

I wasn’t sure what to think. I had seen firsthand how... obsessive and intense my robot friends could be. But, thankfully, the religion seemed to be mostly harmless, and consisted of lots of praying to... me. They all considered me some kind of... deity, now...

I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Should I be flattered? Uneasy? Interested? 

Either way, the few humans that decided to follow the movement quit the farm work. I was told that their leaving wouldn’t affect the crops, but I was much more worried about if they would be safe in the city. 

They told me, with a certainty that made me want to believe them (or maybe, my own hopefullness making me believe them), that the robots in the temple would guard them. 

I didn’t know too much on religion, so I nodded, if still a little worried, and let the call end. 

Tiring, to no end, but I was then able, for the first time since two days ago- sit down properly. 

I reclined in the living room, letting my eyes close. 

I wasn’t sleeping, but I wasn’t exactly awake. I was told later that people do that when they get old, but I didn’t feel old at all. I just felt content to have my eyes closed and think about... 

What was I thinking about? Something- this would usually be the time either Heather or Preston would show up- just as I’m about to sleep, ready to guide me into the dream. 

Was there something I was missing? Was this death? Why did it feel like a drag, a slow, painful drag? I- 

I saw an Old Man. 

Not My Old Man, no—

But... the man I killed... 

Just seeing his face made me feel incredibly nauseous, and I sat up immediately, opening my eyes. 

I was grateful not to see him in my room. 

The first place I went was Mr Silton’s room. But, after telling him I saw the Old Man, he went white as a sheet, pushing me out. 

I tried Mr Logan, but the sounds of glass clanking and odd mumbling made me leave before even knocking. 

So... I went to the main hallway, where I assumed everyone would be- but it was Just the Old Lady. 

And the Old Lady was good enough, for me. I made my way to her, and she looked pleased to see my. Asking why, she simply said that I brightened her say. I was so flattered, I think my face overheated. I sat with her on the couch we moved out here for video meetings, and she told me to lay down. 

Apparently it was so I could rest, but I think it was because she wanted to spend time with me. 

I hoped so, anyway. 

Either way, I started to lean down, and she patted her lap. This was confusing, but figured out that it was ther she wanted my head. So I did so, laying on my back with my head in her lap, and looking up at her chin. 

She was , as Heather once said ‘how a mother should be- soft’. She was soft to lay my head on, even if it did crumple my hat slightly. This issue was resolved by the Old Lady taking the hat off of me, popping it straight, and setting it aside.   
She did seem to gaze at it for a moment, before back to me, smiling. 

She asked me if I was cosy, which I was, so I said yes. This made her pleased. It was... nice. I felt, somehow, like I was helping her, even though she was the one providing the cushioning to me.

We spoke of things I had often thought but never said. Of life, and death, and sadness and hope, and things that we had been through. 

I realised, that with The Old Man and Heather... gone- that The Old Lady was the last of my immediate... family? The first people I met- the first people to truly understand me.   
Of course, there was Mr Silton- but none of them really accepted me as a person at first other than those three. 

It felt... special, for her to be here, now. I hadn’t thought about it like that before, but I realise now that to keep that part of the past alive, there must be those who lived it. 

There had been a silence for some time, now. Neither of us had spoken, and The Old Lady had taken to absently using a corner of her cardigan to polish my head. It was soothing- something I assume feels like a scalp being massaged. 

I hadn’t really understood comfortable silences before. It was a very human thing that felt uneasy to me, but I never had the courage to fill it. Now, I’m glad I didn’t, because this silence was nice to be in, like a warm bath. I assume. 

I simply looked up at her, and she polished my head while looking to the ceiling. The Old Lady, I realised now, mustve been simply: the middle aged lady, when I first met her, because she still seemed youthful. Perhaps I misjudged her age when I first saw her, because it only seems like recently she became an Old Woman.

The point is, the Old Lady was nice to look at. I was always intrigued at the different tones of skin. The Old Lady’s was dark, but a rich dark, not like the Blind Man. I could tell they were from different places. I had learnt that the skin is because people used to come from different places, and the sun made them darker, but now lots of different skins were everywhere, which I found very interesting. 

Heather was a little paler than The Old Lady, but darker than The Old Man, and once I learned Biology, I found that incredibly interesting also. Such an interesting family, with interesting people. 

I feel... very lucky to have them. 

She looked down at me, and I realised i had been staring. She laughed, patting my head and calling me ‘sweet’ before prompting me to sit up, and allowing her to get up. I did so. 

She offered a hand to me, pulling me along to the kitchen. There, was Alice and Mrs Silton, and an array of baking utensils. Slowly, it dawned on me that would be baking, and the concept made me happy. Despite not being able to eat, Heather’s old excitement to bake and eat sweet treats filled me with joy. I suppose now just the art itself made me gleeful, now. 

She asked me if there was anything I would like to make, and passed me a very old Cookbook. Apparently, it had been passed down in the Old Man’s family. 

Despite having limitless recipes stored on my database, I found myself flipping through the book for ages, analysing how easy or tasty a treat would be. 

However, the answer jumped out at me when I turned the page: Gingerbread men. Little people shaped treats. I showed the Old Lady eagerly, who then showed it to Mrs Silton and Alice. They also seemed happy to get started, all helping eachother roll up their sleeves and wash their hands. I did the same- well, almost. The Old Lady gave me a damp cloth to avoid submerging my hands in water. I felt silly for forgetting, and grateful that she thought of me. 

When we were all cleaned and rolled, I was given the ‘very important job’ of kneading biscuit dough with Mrs Silton. 

It was all very exciting, Alice showing us how before leaving us to do so. Folding and pushing and squishing all this... soft, odd texture. It really was unlike anything I had touched so far in my life. 

While We did so, Mrs Silton and I engaged in idle conversations, on life, the weather, and how her pregnancy was going. She answered, before shooting questions back at me. She asked me if I was happy here, with everyone.   
Of course I said yes, and was worried that perhaps I had given someone the impression I didn’t enjoy it here. 

She laughed, shaking her head. No, nothing like that. 

She asked me then if everyone made me happy here. Again, of course. I was beginning to doubt myself then, promising that I would be happier in the future. 

She looked surprised, and shook her head again. Nothing like that, she promised, more intensely, before dropping the subject and looking glum for a moment. 

Thankfully, any awkwardness was avoided by the realisation (or rather, Alice suddenly laughing) that we had made far too much dough. 

It gave us all a good laugh, but definitely made sure we had enough for everyone, using the little people cutters to cut dozens of little people into the dough, then onto the tray on lots of different trays. 

We made, in total, around six trays worth of cookies, plenty to both give around and keep for later. 

So, thats exactly what we did. After they had cooled, we spread them out on the kitchen counter, with lots of piping bags and dye and smarties and all sorts of decorations. 

It became an afternoon activity, calling everyone in to decorate and eat. 

Little Heather’s cookie was: A very sprinkle covered pink icing blob, with yellow icing hair. She called it Bob. A wonderful name. 

Alice’s cookie had: little smartie buttons, and a very artistic icing suit decorated onto him. It was the most beautiful cookie I had ever seen. 

The Old Ladies cookie was: a replica of me! A blue suit and yellow face, red shoes. I was flattered at her choice of cookie. 

Sim’s cookie was: almost plain, with simply two blobs of icing for eyes, and one wide smile. 

Mr Silton’s cookie was: very similar to Little Heather’s. Lots of icing, but also with two smarties on the crotch, and a piece of candy to make a- 

Mrs. Siltons cookie was: simple! She made herself, with orange hair and a green dress. Very smart. 

The Blind Man: ate his as it was, which I found peculiar, till I remembered that he wouldn’t see any decorations. The icing would have sweetened it, though... 

Mr Logan made: two cookies. He made one with blonde hair and a black hoodie, with a familiar face. He didn’t want to eat this one.   
The other, he dumped icing onto and ate it in one bite. 

And, finally

The dog: stole a cookie from the counter, which he enjoyed thoroughly. 

I didn’t need to make a cookie, as I didnt eat, but I made a little replica of Heather, and left her on the windowsill. 

Her icing face smiled at me, but the red of her cardigan ran into her middle, and all I could think of was the way she bled and died...

**Author's Note:**

> || Small chapter- dont worry! Its setting up for the next chapter!


End file.
